A Bittersweet Past and a Hopeful Future
by Atticus07
Summary: Years ago, Courtney had the choice between Duncan and Jack, the philandering son of a prominent family. She chose money and power over love. What happens years later, when an unhappy Courtney finally encounters Duncan again?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:I don't own TDI or any of the characters.**

**A/N:I know I should update "After the Aftermath" and I'll try to do so tomorrow, but I had an idea for a DxC fanfic that I decided to post. The characters may be a bit OOC. Tell me what you think—R&R!**

She slowly opened the wooden door. It opened silently, stealthily almost. Other women would have been shocked by the sight she saw in the bedroom, but not Courtney. Such revelations as this one had become all too commonplace for Courtney Whitehouse. Her arrogant, philandering husband lying naked in bed, in _their _bed, with some blonde bimbo. She wasn't shocked, just hurt. Shaking her head in sadness, she ignored his pleas as she stalked out of their house.

The car screeched as she made a violent right turn. She drove quickly, probably speeding, but didn't care. Maybe years ago, she would have, but it didn't matter anymore. Before she realized what she was doing, she found herself pulling into Lincolnshire Park. Years ago, it had been her and Duncan's park. Now it was their, their nothing.

That choice hand been her own, and it had also been one of her greatest regrets. Sure, she loved her son, but she felt…empty. The feeling was inescapable and had followed her through the years. And it had been many years.

She had been given the choice between Duncan, who no matter how rebellious he was, had loved her with all of his heart, and Jack, a playboy from a prominent family. And again, she had chosen money and power over love. Over the years, that feeling of remorse often rang through the halls of her house.

Now, staring down at the cool blue waters of the lake, she shook her head in sadness. Tears were threatening to fall out of her tired eyes at any moment, and she stubbornly refused to let them escape her eyes. They were the bitter tears of sadness, of loss, and of regret.

And then, there was the anger. When she had met him, Jack had been a hotshot partner in one of the world's largest law firms, and she had been delighted. Later, he traded the law for politics and ended up a senator. But still, the money and power, the prestige, felt meaningless. She had no purpose in life, nothing to work for. She was just the unhappy wife of a philandering senator.

Worse, she didn't love him. Maybe at the beginning, she had felt some amount of affection for Jack, but now, she felt nothing but loathing and disgust. However, Courtney knew instinctively that she had never been in love with him. As much as she hated to acknowledge it, her heart had always and would always belong to Duncan.

On days like this one, where the wind blew and the leaves fell, she could almost _feel _the protective sensation of his warm arms around her. Closing her eyes, she could still remember the taste of his lips, the way his eyes lit up when he saw her, and then…the dejection and heartbreak written all over his face as she had walked away. In each bittersweet memory, he seemed just within reach and yet so far away.

Courtney sighed and rested her trembling hands on the railing overlooking the northern edge of the lake. Even after so many years had passed, something still drew her to Lincolnshire Park. Oftentimes, she saw teenagers wandering the grounds, arm in arm, and it reminded her so much of her past. She could only smile thinly and sadly shake the feelings of sorrow away.

Deep in thought, she didn't hear the man coming up behind her. And then, she heard the husky voice she never thought that she would hear again. "Hello, princess. It's been a while."

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own TDI or any of the characters.**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciate it. I want to apologize for the delays in updating, for I've been having computer issues. Anyways, I hope you like the chapter. R&R!**

He glanced around the park, walking slowly. When he saw her, his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. Duncan ran a shaking hand through his hair as he wondered if he should approach his old flame or let her be. Silently, he chose to approach.

"Hello, princess," he whispered in her ear, "It's been a while."

He heard her breath catch as soon as he uttered the words. She quickly swung around to face him and murmured, "Duncan?"

Softly, he smiled a moment before fidgeting and staring at the concrete ground. "The one and only." She eyed him for a moment, taking it all in. He had shaved off his Mohawk and his jet-black hair was now thinner and graying. Duncan had removed his piercings and dog collar, trading his skull shirt for a red polo and faded jeans. The juvenile delinquent no longer looked like a criminal.

Breaking the awkward silence, she quietly asked, "So, how've you been?"

"Good. You?" When she responded in kind, he simply nodded. Duncan had known this would be the answer, but he also knew the truth. She was unhappy. Courtney had never been good at hiding her emotions, and he still remembered staring at the picture in the newspaper. It had been nearly a year ago, at her husband's reelection night party. Jack Whitehouse had been grinning from ear to ear, but it Courtney that had caught his attention. Her smile was forced and even now, he could see the sadness in her eyes.

"So," he began, "you want to go to the coffee shop around the block? You know, catch up."

She pondered the question for a moment before nodding, and they soon found themselves sitting in an uncomfortable silence, sipping coffees. After so many years had passed, both had assumed that they would never see each other again and there was a certain awkwardness in the meeting.

Blinking his gaze away and breaking the silence, she asked, "What're you doing these days?" It was, she supposed, an icebreaker question, to distract from the uncomfortable silence and incredible awkwardness of the moment.

Nursing a single cup of black coffee, he tugged roughly at his collar. "After our, uh, relationship ended, I joined the marines. I served two years in combat and ended up joining the police force. Needless to say, the people I knew were surprised." He chuckled softly before continuing. "I got married, had two kids, and got divorced. You?"

"Well, you know that I married Jack. We have one son, Eric, and he's a sophomore at Harvard, political science major and planning on a career in law. Family tradition—Jack was crowing that he'd chosen our boy had chosen his father's alma mater over his mother's. Of course, you could've gathered all of that from the papers. What about you, your ex-wife and kids?" She shook her head at the memories.

He nodded silently, for he _had _gathered similar information from the newspapers. But it felt oddly comforting to hear the news stated bluntly from her soothing voice. Snapping out of the trance, he rubbed the stubble growing on his increasingly unshaven face. "Well, after I joined the police force, I met a woman named Stacy. One thing led to another and we got married. My older son, Braden, is a freshman at Georgetown. He wants to be an attorney and then go into politics. I about had a heart attack when he told me it. My younger son, Ryder, is a junior in high school and he, well I don't know what he wants to do with his life."

He smiled softly, downing what was left of his coffee. "About nine years ago, Stacy asked me for a divorce. She told me that there had always been a distance between us, and over time, that distance grew into a chasm. She thought I didn't love her, not by th end anyways."

"Did you?"

He pondered the question for a rather lengthy moment. Admittedly, he himself had often wondered the same thing. "I-I don't know. I think that I did love her, but that I wasn't in love with her, not really. Does that make me a bad person?"

She stared at him for a few seconds. No, it didn't, she concluded. After all, she wasn't in love with Jack either. But then, it was different. Stacy had been in love with him and for him to not love her the way she loved him was a bit unfair. Jack on the other hand, had only been looking for a suitable wife to further his damned political career. Gently shifting the topic away, she suggested, "We're both done with our coffees. Why don't we go?"

Obliging, he guided her to the door and back to the park. Watching quietly as she attempted to start her car, he couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had things turned out differently. Could they have survived? Should they have?

He heard her pound frustratedly on the steering wheel. "Dammit! It won't fucking start!"

Before he realized what he was doing, he walked towards her, chuckling. "Now where, Princess, did you learn those words?" She seemed to wince at the name, and he inwardly kicked himself for letting it slip. It had become almost second nature to call her Princess. Years ago, it may have been appropriate, but they weren't teenagers anymore, they weren't together, and she was married.

He bent down slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, I'll give you a ride. You can have a tow truck come and take it to the shop to get it checked out."

She nodded, stepping out of her car. "Duncan, thank you. And take me to the, uh, Marriott Hotel down by the City Center." Upon noticing his raised eyebrow, she decided to tell him the truth. "Before I came here this afternoon, I walked in on Jack with another woman. I can't go back there, not tonight anyways."

Forcing himself to unclench his fist, he nodded. The bastard was lucky that he had learned some measure of self-restraint over the years—anyone with half a brain could tell that Courtney was hurting. "Well why don't you, uh, stay at my place tonight? Ryder's with Stacy and I have an extra room."

Catching the somewhat pleading look in his eyes, she reluctantly agreed. "Alright."

The ride to his home was quiet, though not as uncomfortably so. Pulling into his driveway, she realized that had things turned out differently, this could've been her home. He gently led her into the house and down a hallway before opening a door. "Here," he pointed, gesturing wildly at the room. "I need to give the station a quick phone call."

As he turned to leave, I stared at him. "Duncan?" He stopped in his tracks, turning back to me. "I just wanted to apologize for everything that has happened. I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. As always, I do not own TDI or any of the characters. **

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed the story so far. Hopefully the chapter makes sense, since I'm a bit worn out at the moment. Anyways, please R&R!**

He blushed when he realized he was staring at her, his cheeks tingeing a slight red. It was almost dusk now, and he had persuaded her to join him for dinner. Ribs and mashed potatoes, about the only thing he could cook well. It didn't matter anyways. She ate it ravenously, more out of hunger than any particular fondness for the food.

Tapping the table nervously, he broke the careful silence. "About what you said earlier," he began, "it's not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."

She looked up, her brow furrowing. "Duncan," she paused, "don't make excuses for me. We both know that it is my fault."

He shook his head vigorously. "Court, it's not. It's the way you were raised—to pursue money and power at all costs. That raw ambition was in your blood." It was true, really. As a child, she remembered sitting in courtrooms as her father, a prominent judge, reigned over cases and rendered verdicts with that ominous wooden gavel. On the show, she had played fair on the first season only for Harold to switch the votes. In later seasons, she became more manipulative as her drive to win increased exponentially. With her, it had always been a battle between the heart and the mind.

"Please, Duncan, do not make excuses for me," she reiterated. "Neither my upbringing nor my background excuses my actions." She stood up, realizing that this was not an argument he would ever concede. In the past, she had alternately loved and hated his stubbornness, his obstinacy, his refusal to give up. But now, she shook her head. Now it couldn't, it shouldn't have meant anything.

He followed, edging closer to her. "Courtney, I have never blamed you for anything. Ever. It hurt, yes, but that doesn't make it your fault."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but it does. Duncan, I was the reason you were hurt. The choices I made, the things I did. I betrayed you, and that's entirely my fault. Hell, I am shocked that when you saw me you didn't run the opposite direction."

He chuckled lightly, resting his hand on the wall. "Court, my dear," he scratched his head, "you should know me better than that. I am many things, but I am not that kind of man. I would rather crash into it head-on than run the other way. When I saw you standing at the overlook, I _knew _that I couldn't just walk away."

"But, what I did to you! I let my parents convince me to go on a date with Jack. Cheated on you! I broke your heart. Why would you even _want _to see me? You should hate me!"

He shook his head again. "That was a mistake, cheating on me. It blurred certain lines, changed the trajectory of our lives. But I could never hate you, Courtney, I just couldn't. And you know that as well as I do."

"Why not?"

Inching closer, he stared at her for a moment. "When I met you, I was in a bad place. Abusing drugs, alcohol, all of that shit. And you saved me. You saved my life, and I will always be grateful to you. No matter what you do to me, I will always be in your debt." She looked into his gleaming eyes and realized that he was being honest.

Suddenly, it dawned on him how close they were at that moment. He could smell her perfume, feel her warm breath as it hit his face. And though he had always known that he still loved her, suddenly he felt something else. Something he hadn't felt in years—a passionate, almost animal lust. Abruptly, he reached down and kissed her.

For a few moments, she was stunned and unresponsive. And then, she began to kiss him back. It was a kiss marked by years of pent up longing and desire—hungry and ravenous. He wrapped his arms around her, pushing her against the wall. Only when his tongue began to circle her lower lip did she realize what had happened. Just as abruptly, she pushed him off of her, moving to the other side of the room.

"You shouldn't have done that, Duncan." Her face felt hot and she was kicking herself for giving in to the sin of kissing the former delinquent. She was married, the wife of a senator, damn it! What was she doing?

He nodded, realizing that he shouldn't have done it. It was too forward, too frustrating, too _everything _on his part. It had been twenty-some years since they had last seen each other, and he had likely blown any chance of them meeting again. 'Hormones' were a reasonable excuse as a teenager, but now?

"I'm sorry," he agreed, "I shouldn't have done that." And yet, it felt so _right_—that feeling of her in his arms, the taste of her lips, and their bodies against each other. He marveled at her sense of morals—just hours ago she had walked in on her husband in bed with another woman, and her she was beating herself up because he had kissed her. Damn, he had screwed up. "I'm sorry."

"Why do I feel guilty? I don't love my husband and he doesn't love me. My only son is grown and really doesn't give a damn about his parents. Why should I care?" She threw her hands up in the air, reaching in vain for an answer. Even after all these years, she could still confide in Duncan. She didn't know why, but she felt that she could trust him.

"Because it's who you are. Courtney, this is the person you are. You have very unyielding principles, and that is one of the things I have always loved about you. I have always loved you, and I always will." It was an admission he should have made years ago. When she had said, "I love you," he had always responded, "I know," not, "I love you too." Something about his pride had refused to let him admit it. Until he lost her. So he resolved to tell her the truth, pride be damned.

She nodded in agreement, surprised that he would admit it so freely. "Duncan, I will always love you. But things are just so…complicated. I just don't know what to do anymore."

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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don not own TDI or any of the characters.**

**Author's Note: Thank you to those that have reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. The song in the chapter isn't a perfect fit, but I think it works well within the context of the chapter. What do you think? Read and review!**

He awoke to the subtle sound of soft, muted crying—tears, pain, sadness. Wincing slightly, he got up and quietly walked to her room, nudging the door open. "Hey, what's wrong?"

He could see her body tremble with sobs and his brow furrowed in concern. Wiping away her tears, she sat upright abruptly. Trying to form a coherent explanation, she motioned to the cell phone on the nightstand. "Jack, he called and asked me to come back. He said he needed me. Not 'I love you, sweetheart' but 'I need you.' As in the you are an asset to my career kind of need."

Kneeling down beside the bed, he looked up at her, murmuring, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Duncan. I don't love him and he doesn't love me. But it kills me because it's just a reminder of all the mistakes that I have made over the years. I remembered our vows—he promised to be faithful to me. Faithful! You know, years ago I found a box in the attic. Evidently, he likes to keep mementos of his escapades. A note from one lover, the number of a bimbo he picked up at the bar. Damn, I'm a fool." She bit her lip, but still felt her body overcome with sobs.

Out of a reflexive instinct, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Hey, hey," he whispered into her hair, "don't say that. It'll be alright. It'll be alright."

For a long moment they remained like that, Duncan trying as best he could to comfort her. Gently pushing him away, she began to pace the room. "Why? Am I not good enough, not beautiful enough, not kind enough? What sin have I committed to deserve this kind of punishment?" Overcome with pain, she slipped back onto the floor, burying her face in her palms.

He looked at her sadly, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that, princess," he wasn't sure what he was saying, but decided to say it anyway. "You _are _good enough. You _are _beautiful enough. And you're the kindest person that I have ever met. Hell, you put up with me! That's got to count for something, right? Most people with any sense would've ran the other way once they saw that green Mohawk on my head. But you didn't. You stayed and in a hell of a lot of ways, you saved me. Princess," he murmured, reaching a hand out to her, "you've done nothing wrong. Jack's just an idiot."

She gave him a thin smile and walked to the window. Resting her hands on windowsill, she inhaled deeply as she stared at the world below her—a man jogging, the neighborhood kids getting on the school bus, a woman getting the newspaper. "Thank you, Duncan. It means a lot to me. But I can't stay here forever. I'll have to go back sooner or later, to my life, to my 'family'."

He nodded, not wanting to meet her gaze. It hurt to watch as she walked away. "Yeah."

"So, this is goodbye?" She asked the question as if she was hoping for a different answer, though they both knew better.

_Step out the door and it feels like rain_

_That's the sound (that's the sound) on your window pane_

_Take to the streets but you can't ignore_

_That's the sound (that's the sound) you're waiting for_

Unhappily, he nodded, "Yeah." Abruptly, he stood up, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I love you."

_You feel that your will starts crashing down_

_Whenever your will starts crashing down_

_Whenever your will starts crashing down_

_That's when you'll find me_

She smiled forlornly. "I love you too and I wish that I could stay here forever. But things are different now. Thank you though, for saving me. Whenever I'm on the brink of hopelessness, you find me and you save me. I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't around."

_Yeah, God love your soul and your aching bones_

_Take a breath, take a step, maybe down below_

_Everyone's the same_

_My fingers to my toes_

_We just can't get a ride_

_But we're on the road_

"It's funny. Back when we were sixteen and thought we knew everything, everyone else told us that it would never work out, we told them to go to hell. I mean, what did they know? Looks like they're right. It didn't work out, but we're still making this journey."

_If ever your will starts crashing down_

_Whenever your will starts crashing down_

_Whenever your will starts crashing down_

_That's when you'll find me_

Courtney nodded in agreement before looking away. "Will I ever see you again, Duncan?"

_(Yeah), lost till you're found_

_Swim till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love till you hate_

_Strong till you break_

_Know that we all fall down_

He puzzled over the question for a moment before forming an appropriate response. "Maybe, maybe not. But even if I'm not there to save you, know that you're still going to fall. We all slip up, fall to the ground. Pick yourself up, keep walking on this road."

_If ever your will starts crashing down_

_Whenever your will starts crashing down_

_If ever your will starts crashing down_

_That's when you'll find (find) me_

Staring at her, he continued, "But if ever you need a friend, I'll be there. If your broken heart needs a soul to lean on, I'm always here. If your in a hole and can't get out, you know where to find me. I'll always be there if you need me."

_Lost till you're found_

_Swim till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love till you hate_

_Strong till you break_

_Know that we all fall down_

She nodded, stepping towards the door. "I know. But this is it, Duncan. Goodbye." She quickly hugged him, then left. He wiped a single tear from his eye.

_All fall down, we all fall down, all fall down_

_All fall down, we all fall down, all fall down_

He sat down on the bed, fighting tears as he stared at the wall. Resting a hand on the pillow, he could still smell her perfume. But then, even after all these years, he could still hear her voice yell at him, taste her tongue in his mouth, see her mind inside and out, and feel the touch of her skin. Damn.

_Lost till you're found_

_Swim till you drown_

_Know that we all fall down_

_Love till you hate_

_Strong till you break_

_Oh, know that we all fall down_

Across town, she stared at the house on the hill. Walking back to her house, she sighed. His words were still ringing in her head. "I'll always be there if you need me."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own TDI, TDA, TDM, or anything else.**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. Anyways, thanks to all who reviewed, I love reviews! This chapter takes place a few years after the previous one. Enjoy!**

Well into the night, the sharp ring of the telephone jolted her out of her sleep. Rubbing her tired eyes, she picked up the phone, groggily mumbling, "Hello?"

"Hello, ma'am, are you Ms. Whitehouse?" a voice asked.

"Yes."

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Officer Holden McCaskey and I'm sorry to inform you that your son, Eric, was involved in an accident on the highway. Intoxication is suspected on his part. We notified your husband and he said to call you. Your son is being rushed to the Angel of Mercy Hospital."

Nodding furiously, she dropped the phone and raced to the hospital. Her son, Eric, was in the hospital. She struggled to keep control of her emotions, fighting back inevitable tears and wondering if Jack would actually be at the hospital. He wasn't home, hadn't been for days. Although he claimed that it was due to his 'busy' work, she'd heard the rumors that he was having an affair with his secretary.

A kindly nurse directed her to Eric's room and she stared at him from the window outside the room. He wasn't breathing, kept alive by several machines. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned around.

An elderly doctor held out his hand. "Mrs. Whitehouse, hello. I'm Doctor Jeffrey Haynes and I'd like to speak with you about your son's case." She nodded. "The odds are not good, but we still have a few options. There is an experimental procedure I'm interested in pursuing, but that's entirely up to you. He is, unfortunately, slipping into a coma. I'm sorry."

She nodded again. "Do the procedure. If you feel that the procedure presents the best shot at saving him, than do it."

"All right. I'll bring you the forms."

She signed the forms willingly, waiting impatiently for Jack to arrive. When he did, several hours later, she was hunched over at Eric's bedside praying that he would fight and stay alive. Rubbing tears away from her red eyes, she stared blankly at the wall.

The days took their toll. She stayed mostly in the hospital room, praying and begging that he survive. And despite her efforts, he remained comatose. A few weeks later, Jack returned to Washington and to his mistress. She bitterly cursed him for it.

Clutching her son's lifeless hand, she felt it shake against hers. "Eric? Eric?"

He blinked his eyes open slowly, and by then doctors had come rushing in. She thanked the Lord that her son was awake and alive, overcome with joy. Once the doctors left, she spoke with her son briefly. He rushed her out and told her to get a decent meal and a good night's sleep.

As she was leaving, she felt her cell phone vibrate. "Courtney Whitehouse."

"Ms. Whitehouse, this is Holden McCaskey. I'd like to inform you that your son's accident has been ruled just that—an accident. There will be no prosecutions, no more investigations, no anything. The case has been closed."

She raised an eyebrow instinctively. "I thought you said that intoxication was suspected."

"It was, originally."

Reading between the lines, she pushed farther. "Tell me the truth, Holden. What really happened?"

"All right, Ms. Whitehouse. This was the result of a direct directive from the commissioner. It's above my head."

Suddenly it clicked as she put away the phone. Commissioner!

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The secretary stared apologetically at the commissioner, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, sir. She simply _insisted _on seeing you."

He waved her off, "It's all right, Cindy."

Courtney stared at him for a moment. "I'm not sure if I should thank you or yell at you."

It was true, she wasn't sure whether to be grateful to him for saving her son or angry that he was risking his job to do so.

"That doesn't surprise me," he mumbled. She had always prided herself on being logical, but she was still unpredictable. It was a characteristic that he had fallen in love with over the years, and had held on to far longer than he should have. Really, it was one of the memories he clung to. But like everything, it faded with age—he could no longer recall every detail of her face and watching her, he attempted to memorize the lines and the look in her eyes, remember them for as long as was possible.

She shook her head, "Duncan, you didn't have to do what you did."

"But I wanted to. I wanted to do you and your, uh, family, a favor. It—"

She cut him off. "No, Duncan. I taught my son from an early age that he was responsible for his actions and I still believe that we should all accept the punishment for our mistakes. You're a cop, you should understand that."

"Why can't you just let it be? That I did what I did? That we don't always have to be punished for our mistakes?"

"Duncan, what you did was wrong."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so damn intent on the belief that we should all be punished for our mistakes?"

"Because I was never punished for mine! After everything I've done, the hell I've put those I love the most through, I got off scot-free!"

He sighed, stepping towards her. "Prin—Courtney—don't say that. It doesn't matter—the past is the past. Your son's awake, soon he'll go back to Yale and he'll be happy. Isn't that all that matters?

"I know, and I'm sorry for going off on you like that. It's just that I spent years waiting for all hell to break loose for my sins, and then nothing happened. Damn, I was almost _praying _that punishment would somehow absolve me of the sins, the _guilt_."

Gently rubbing her back, he nodded. "I know that feeling. I used to wonder, you know, if had I done anything differently, would anything have changed. If I had just told you that I loved you one more time. Or if I had been the golden boy, not the delinquent who taunted your parents."

She shook her head. "Duncan, I loved you for who you were. The roguish, smirking ogre who made my smile, made me laugh, made me feel _alive_."

"And I loved you for who you were—the prep with the pole up her ass. The one who challenged me, showed me what it meant to love somebody, made me a better person."

Her eyes widened momentarily. "Duncan?"

"Hmm?"

"I did not have a pole up my ass!"

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything from the TDI franchise. **

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. It warms my heart. This chapter is a bit abrupt, but I like it nonetheless. R&R!**

Seething with rage, he slammed the remote down and shut his eyelids tightly. He could still hear the bastard drone on and on about how sorry he was and how many times he had 'apologized' to his family and friends. Everyone watching knew it was bullshit. And Duncan couldn't help but stare at Courtney, carefully watching her reactions and emotions. They were all barely noticeable, as she had long been trained in the art of hiding her emotions. Nonetheless, he could tell that she was just following orders, portraying the dutiful role of the stoic wife. And Jack was just being his asshole self.

Without thinking, he found himself walking to the attic. It was dusty, covered with cobwebs and filled with mementos of memories past. He lifted a box, noticing the label 'Total Drama'. Wincing at the photograph, he shook his head. It was a picture of the two of them—his arms wrapped around her stomach as she smiled shyly and he smirked, grinning widely. He knocked over the box as he left, not bothering to pick it up.

Interrupted from his thoughts, he heard a knock at the door. "It's unlocked," he shouted, "c'mon in."

His older son, Braden, came in, drenched with rain.

"Hey, Dad. You see the Senator's press conference? It's big news over at Georgetown." Figures his son would ask that. Braden was an associate at some DC law firm and had been dropping hints that he was leaving to work as a Congressman's Chief of Staff. When his father didn't respond, Braden raised an eyebrow. His old man was usually alert and focused.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yeah, I saw the thing. Bullshit, every damn word."

Braden nodded. "That shouldn't surprise you, Dad. It's the nature of Washington."

He shook his head. "It doesn't surprise me, just pisses me off. Somebody ought to run against Whitehouse."

"Really? You've always been somewhat cynical about Washington politics. Why the sudden anger?"

Downing a shot of whiskey, Duncan decided to tell the truth. "It's not fair to anyone. Not to this state, not to his constituents, not to his wife!"

Furrowing his brow, Braden looked up. "His wife? You knew her?"

"Yeah, I did. Courtney was an old friend of mine and I care about her."

Staring at his father, Braden raised an eyebrow. "What kind of _old friend_? Tell me the truth."

"All right, all right son. When I was sixteen, I was a rebellious delinquent. My parole officer suggested that I apply to spend my summer on a reality show, Total Drama Island. I met her there. She was your usual type-A—bossy, do-gooder, pole up her ass. God, I loved to poke and push her buttons. She was something I'd never encountered before. She stood up to me, fought hard, did everything I would do and more. That summer, I fell in love with her. And I've never stopped loving her." Duncan laid his hand on the table, gazing out the window.

"What happened?"

Duncan snorted. "Jack Whitehouse happened."

"That explains your hatred for the Senator. But what about Mom?"

He sighed, knowing the question would've come sooner or later. "Your mother's a wonderful woman and she raised the two of you very well. But as hard as I tried to avoid it, I was never as in love with her as I either claimed to be or wanted to be. By the way, how's Ryder?"

Braden shrugged. "Ryder's Ryder. The same eternal bachelor, chasing every woman he can over at UNC. Just wait a year, when he graduates and they throw him out into the real world. Buy some popcorn; it should be an interesting show to watch."

Duncan's groaned. "When will that boy grow up?"

Chuckling, Braden agreed. "But seriously, what are you going to do? Just watch her on TV and get nostalgic about good times past?"

What _would _he do? She had asked him not to contact her, but he wanted badly to do so. It was a feeling that persisted even as the days turned into months and the months turned into years. Admittedly, he was lonely. Braden worked eighty hour weeks in Washington and Ryder was doing God knows what at UNC. Every girlfriend he had ever had, he inevitably compared to Courtney. So he just settled into the role of the bachelor Police Commissioner. Finally, he looked up. "I don't know, kid," he murmured. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, but debated whether or not it was the right thing to do.

Eventually, he decided to follow his heart. Whenever he was dealing with her, he reverted back to his impulsive, sixteen year old self. Screw infallible logic and careful deliberation. Slamming the door behind him, he felt his cell phone vibrate softly. "Duncan Matthews," he mumbled.

"Duncan, um, it's Courtney. Knowing you, I figured that you'd contact me sooner or later, so I decided to call."

He clutched the phone tighter, memorizing the way her voice sounded. "You know me too well. Are you alright?"

She chuckled softly. "That's the question of the day. And for the record, I can't say I'm happy, but I'm doing okay. How have you been?"

"Good, bad, everything in between. Hey, if it's alright with you, I want to talk sometime."

Nodding, she concurred. "I'm at the coffee shop in the Wilcox Plaza. If you're free—"

He cut her off. "I'm free. I'll be there in ten minutes." And he made the twenty minute drive in nine minutes and fifty five seconds. Somehow, he had resisted the urge to turn his sirens on and simply driven at breakneck speed. Jogging into the coffee shop, he immediately noticed her.

"Hey," he murmured. "It's good to see you."

"Same here. It's been a while, hasn't it?" She regretted telling him to stay away, but couldn't bring herself to contact him. It was painful to be with him but not _with _him, but it was painful to just avoid him as well. "I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you the last time I saw you. You didn't deserve that."

He waved it away. "Sweetheart, there is no need to apologize for anything."

"Nevertheless, I want us to be friends. You were the first person I could depend on for anything, the only person that I have ever met whom I could trust unconditionally."

He nodded, "Friends."

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